Sweet Genevieve
by Mertiya
Summary: A fiction about one of the least appreciated, and, to my mind, the most interesting of the nonregular characters aboard Voyager.
1. Prologue: A Log Entry

**Disclaimer: **It is Paramount, not I, who owns Voyager. I do, however, own both Genevieve and Taki. Neither of them is a Mary Sue. I promise.

**A/N: **I realize this is a short first chapter, but it is also a good stopping point, especially since the whole thing is meant to be rather vague up until then. This could be seen as more of a prologue than anything else. Kudos to anyone who works out the character whose POV this is from! (Before the end, that is.) It's not particularly hard, actually. Please R&R! This is my first _Voyager_ fic worthy of being uploaded, so please don't be _too_ hard on it.

I have done it, more successfully than I would have believed possible. When I saw the body, I knew she meant me to take the blame. By rights, I should not have gone along with it. But I did. She knew that I would. She knew I would stop protesting once they found the DNA that she had carefully inserted in the body. After all, what good would it have done?

I am a violent person. Perhaps I can control my violence now, but there was a time when I could not, a time when I went into battle inwardly screaming with the bloodlust. And, of course, she knew it. Oh yes, she knew it. And she used me. At least, I suppose she did. The murder that she committed--the murder they thought I committed--was no senseless act of violence; on the contrary, it was the work of a cool, calculating woman against a man who had unwittingly stumbled across the secret of her past--and present.

I ought never to have let her get away with it. I did, though, and there's no sense crying over spilt milk. I remember it all so well. I have a good deal of time for thought, now that I'm confined to my quarters. It's dangerous, very dangerous. She knows, of course. The whole crew does. She might kill me, but I'm prepared for that. I was prepared to die for a crime I didn't commit, to atone for those I did commit in battle. Odd, isn't it? But that's not quite the point. And that isn't the danger. The danger is that someone else might discover the truth about her. And then she would kill again, to maintain her cover.

I did try to tell the Lieutenant about it, but of course he would not believe that she is dangerous. I couldn't tell him that she was the one who committed the murder, now could I? He would never believe me. I don't know what he'd think, but I know he wouldn't believe me. After all, he's touched my mind. He knows what I am capable of. And I, like a fool, was so careful to use the scenes I had picked up from her mind. I told him I could not sense other's emotions, that I was not an empath.

I am. I knew what she had done when she did it. But then I still did not know why she had done it. I was an imbecile. I believed she had a good reason to do it--I thought perhaps he had…violated her--I did not find out until much later the true reason. I have sensed her thoughts to a degree ever since the murder. I believe the intense emotions that she--that we both--experienced at that time have done much to open her synaptic pathways to me. She doesn't know it. She doesn't know that I know her secrets. If she did, I would be dead. I am careful to keep my mind closed to hers, even when my emotions are strong. It is better that I remain alive, I now realize, if only because my connection with her is the only safeguard to the rest of the crew. I will sense if she plans another murder…and then, I will act to stop it, though it cost me my life.

--Personal Log of Ensign Lon Suder, star date 49655.2


	2. In Engineering

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own _Voyager_, despite the fact I should, because Paramount killed off Mr. Suder in just two or so episodes! How unfair!

**A/N: **I should probably mention that this fic is actually AU, though you can't tell until the next chapter or so. Let's just say I don't want Suder to die too quickly. Please R&R! Oh--and the title character also arrives by name in this chapter.

I have been reading a good deal lately. I believe that it will benefit me to tell the story exactly as it occurred. I may have what twentieth-century physicians diagnosed as "post-traumatic stress disorder" as I've been having some recurring nightmares about the…event. I don't think I can tell the doctor, because I should have to come out with the whole story, and I wouldn't be believed anyways. So I shall simply have to tell the computer. After all, unless she gets suspicious, she won't hack into my personal logs. So…here goes.

22:00 hours. I checked in for my duty shift. Lieutenant Torres had asked me to run a fuel analysis, so I sat down at my console and began to do just that. I had worked for about ten minutes when she--when Ensign Genevieve Fuller entered. I looked up.

"Genevieve!" I exclaimed. "Why are you in Engineering?"

She dimpled at me. Her long, golden hair fell to below her waist. I did not think that it was odd that it was loose, even though she did not often wear it loose.

"Hello, Lon," she purred, in that special voice she used to reserve just for me. Of course, I did not know then that she merely needed a convenient excuse in case it was ever necessary for her to commit murder. Although when she entered, I did not suspect anything, I was nevertheless puzzled as to why she should be in Engineering during her off-hours.

"I got bored," she explained, in a low, husky voice, her green eyes shining with perfect sincerity.

"You shouldn't have come," I responded. Granted, I was pleased to see her, but I knew that it could mean trouble for both of us if she were discovered.

"Oh, well," she replied, tossing her hair behind her in a nonchalant gesture. "It's late; who's going to see me?"

"Ensign Darwin for one." She looked at me, with what I now know to be a carefully simulated expression of surprise.

"Ensign Darwin? Who's that?" she queried. She moved closer to me. She was wearing the perfume that she knew I loved. I breathed it in, allowing my mind to brush ever-so-slightly against hers. To my surprise, I felt her shy away, and I saw her eyes slide to the floor.

"Can we not just now?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied. I smiled at her.

"You look just like a vampire when you do that," she grinned. I suppose she was right. It is a remark she has made many times before. It stems from the fact that my canine teeth are perhaps over sharp, and also from my eyes; they are typically betazoid, so the irises are black and merge with the pupils.

It was at this point in our conversation that Ensign Darwin walked in. He stared at Genevieve, perhaps a little surprised to see her, but he contained it and turned to me.

"I hope I'm not late, Ensign Suder," he said apologetically. "I lost track of the time. I know Lieutenant Torres wouldn't be happy with me."

"There's no problem," I replied.

He nodded gratefully and hurried to his console. To my surprise, and puzzlement, Genevieve followed. She touched Darwin on the shoulder, and he turned.

"I have something to talk to you about," she said in a low voice. He turned and nodded.

"Not here," I heard her say, and I wondered what could be so private that she could not discuss it in front of me. I did not interfere, though. I simply went back to my fuel diagnostic. About five minutes later, I logged out of my console and went over to another one, for I believed that there might be something wrong with the warp coils. And then…after another few minutes, I felt it.

I was two people, torn between the feelings of Darwin and the sights of Genevieve. I felt the fear, saw myself raising the coil, heard the crack as the bone shattered, felt the thud, the sickening thud, felt the exhilaration running through--could it be Genevieve--then the pain hit me, it was delayed, it came after the pain had finished for Darwin, finished forever, but the pain was still there in my head, it washed through me, wave after wave of it…I clutched my head, and I collapsed to the floor with the pain of it. When I came to, much later, Engineering was deserted.

My head was still muzzy. I staggered to my feet, and then I left, telling myself that I had had a fit, and that nothing had happened. I may be a Betazoid, but I can still lie to myself.

--Personal Log of Ensign Lon Suder, stardate 49655.3


	3. Mea Culpa

**Disclaimer: **Wish I did, but I don't. (Own Star Trek, of course.)

**A/N: **I'm afraid this fic is going to be entirely short chapters. Somehow I just seem to come to good stopping points so quickly! This chapter I'm mean to Lon...but it mostly follows the episode "Basics." It won't after this chapter.

I am in the Jeffries Tubes, following a successful attack by the Kazon-Nistrim in which they took control of the ship. I should have known. I _should have known_. But I did not. Genevieve does not know, of course, that I can sense her thoughts. But I think that may have been another reason she chose me as her target. She wanted to learn about the touching and twinning of minds. I taught her a great deal, over the years I worked with her in the Maquis and on _Voyager_. I think she eventually felt my touch, though I don't believe she traced it to me.

She closed her mind to me. I should have told Tuvok of my suspicions. At least he might then have been partly prepared. I was a fool! But there is no sense in dwelling on the mistakes of the past. I must find the Doctor and activate him. We must stop the Kazon.

--Personal Log of Ensign Lon Suder, stardate 50023.4

"Ensign Suder--if you are watching this, it means you have tried unsuccessfully to activate my program. In that case, you are on your own. I have the utmost faith in you. You know what must be done, and you will do it. Good luck, Ensign Suder." After a moment, the screen went black and the Doctor's image disappeared.

"No…" Suder whispered, running a hand through his gray-white hair. His black eyes gazed despairingly at the dead screen. "Doctor, I can't do this without you. I just…I'm not in control enough, I'm not ready…" his voice trailed off. He brought his hands together in a steeple-shape and closed his eyes. "My breath…is the light," he intoned softly. "And I am ready. I won't fail this ship. I won't fail this crew."

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "I am in control," he said forcefully. He gripped the phaser he held in his hands tightly and walked toward the Jeffries Tubes once again. An image of a woman in science blue, with long golden hair and sparkling green eyes danced in front of his vision, before he resolutely pushed it aside.

He arrived in Engineering with no undue setbacks. Clutching the phaser to him, he took another deep breath and pressed himself against the wall, catching his breath and collecting his senses. Then he set his teeth and threw himself into Engineering, phaser already blazing. The blue light lanced out from the phaser in all directions, striking the Kazons full in the chests. Suder stepped into Engineering, all senses alert, telepathic sense waiting to warn him if one of the Kazons seemed likely to regain consciousness.

He walked quickly to the nearest console, and his hands played over the glowing green keys, swiftly and surely, disabling the back-up phaser systems. Tom Paris had told the Doctor he had a plan, and that when the Talaxians attacked, the back-up phaser systems had to be disabled at all costs. Suder reached for the initiation button--and a phaser beam, set to kill, tore through his back. He hadn't felt the Kazon awakening; he had been too concentrated on the task at hand. His eyes widened, and he gasped for breath. His trembling hand stretched toward the initiation button…the pain…the button…he pressed it; then the pain overwhelmed him and he slumped to the ground, trying desperately to press hard enough against his stomach to stem the tide of blood rushing out of his body, taking his life with it...


	4. Return from Afar

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned Suder...I do own a character who's not unlike him in some ways, but that's beside the point. I don't own Star Trek.

**A/N: **This is the shortest chapter yet, essentially just a little end to the cliffie of the last chapter. The plot takes a bit of a new turn after this chapter and becomes steadily more AU. I think. Please R&R!

"Great," Tom Paris muttered, surveying the heavily damaged bridge. Blue-gray smoke was still curling from most of the consoles, and the bodies of the Kazon and Seska lay crumpled around the room.

"Lieutenant Paris?" a voice asked on his combadge.

"Paris here," he replied. "What is it?"

"There's a man here in Engineering--one of your people, I think, though he's not wearing a uniform--he's quite badly hurt."

"What?" _Who could that be?_ "I'll be right down."

Tom got quickly to his feet and trotted to the nearest turbo lift. "Engineering," he snapped. The doors slid shut and the lift whirred quietly to itself for a few minutes, before the doors slid open again, and Tom paced out into Engineering. He almost groaned upon seeing the blackened consoles and masses of Kazon bodies, but he managed to restrain himself. He looked around and saw one Talaxian bending over the slumped body of a man Tom thought he recognized.

"Suder?" he gasped. He ran over to the Betazoid and muttered, "That's not good…" when he saw the wound. He turned to the Talaxian. "We have to get him to Sickbay. Quickly. He's in critical condition."

I was in great pain. The pain was everywhere; it was my entire being. I could not find anything within me but the blackness and the pain. Then there was a light. I could see the light. It was warm, and it was waiting for me. I began to move toward it.

"Mr. Suder." It was Tuvok's voice. It was harsh and grating on my ears. I did not want to listen. I tried to ignore it.

"Mr. Suder, concentrate on my voice."

I did not want to listen, but it was insistent.

"Mr. Suder, you will concentrate. Hold on to the pain. Do not let go."

He did sound familiar…and worried, which was odd for a Vulcan. Should I listen to him? But the light…was so warm, and so inviting…

"His heartbeat is getting weaker. We're losing him." Now it was the Doctor's voice. He definitely sounded anxious. I knew that I had to return. I turned my back on the light and made my way toward the pain, which grew more intense as I approached. It centered itself in my back…I could feel my back again. The voices were much louder.

"His heartbeat is reasserting itself. He's growing stronger. I think he's going to recover!"

"That's wonderful, Doctor." A female voice. Kes. My eyes opened slowly. They seemed very heavy. Three faces peered down at me; Tuvok, the Doctor, Kes. I smiled, and Kes and the Doctor smiled back. Tuvok, being Tuvok, merely looked.

"You must rest," the Doctor said. I did not answer; all I did was close my eyes and fall asleep.


	5. Small Talk in Sickbay

**Disclaimer: **Surprisingly enough, I don't own _Voyager_.

**A/N: **Wow, suddenly the chapters just got a lot longer. And a little more populated. And hopefully remained interesting. Please excuse my random babbling and please R&R.

Several days later, I was sitting up in my bed. The Doctor had refused to let me leave the surveillance of sickbay, though I protested that I felt fine. He said that I needed more rest, so I was resting. The door opened and a woman came into Sickbay, dressed in Science blue. She was a small woman--Asian--with close-cropped black hair and black eyes.

"Doc?" she asked, not immediately seeing me. She sighed in exasperation. "Computer, activate--"

"That's unnecessary, Ensign Yokoshami." The Doctor's crisp voice cut into hers. "I was merely working on some samples. I am amply prepared for your physical. Almost. Sit down on the bed there next to Ensign Suder while I prepare my diagnostic tools."

"Ensign Sud--?" she turned. "Oh yes!" She came over to me and sat down on the bed beside me. "Hi, I'm Ensign Taki Yokoshami. You're a hero, you know."

At this abrupt interruption, I was taken aback. I merely shook my head. "Er…no," I said, attempting a smile.

"Well, you are. You saved the ship. And I, for one, am very grateful for that. The planet we were on--well, it was nice, but it certainly wasn't a place I'd want to spend the rest of my life."

I nodded, not really knowing what to say. The woman blushed. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I talk too much."

"And I don't talk enough, so we're even," I answered. She looked startled for a moment, and then she grinned. "I--" she began, but at that point, the Doctor returned.

"All right, Ensign." The Doctor pulled out a medical tricorder and ran it up and down Ensign Yokoshami.

"Hmmm, Ensign, what did you eat on that planet?"

"Um," she cocked her head as though attempting to remember. "Well, there were some grubs, and some plants…"

"What sort of plants?"

"Oh, those? They were fine. We checked them with tricorders."

"Apparently not. You have a low-grade parasitic infection. You'll have to remain in Sickbay overnight."

She looked slightly startled. "All right, Doctor." She smiled. "Do I get the bed next to this charming Betazoid?"

The Doctor looked somewhat displeased. "You will receive the bed next to Mr. Suder, yes. But please don't bother him with too much chatter. He has been through a great deal, and he _needs to rest_."

Ensign Yokoshami looked demurely at the floor. "I wouldn't dream of bothering him, Doctor."

"Hmph," the Doctor snorted, before turning around. I thought he looked slightly confused. "Make yourself comfortable," he said to the Ensign, before turning around and stalking back into his room to keep working on his samples.

I looked at Ensign Yokoshami, sitting on the bed next to me. She appeared to be in high good humor, and she grinned widely at me. I smiled back, without showing my teeth. "I won't be bothering you if I ask you a few questions, will I?" she queried, running a hand through her short black hair.

"Oh, the Doctor's merely being careful," I responded. "I--wouldn't mind talking at all."

"I have a confession to make," she said at that point. I raised an eyebrow at her and gestured politely for her to continue.

"I ate those plants on purpose, and it wasn't on the planet. I wanted to come in and talk to you. I've just begun a sort of unofficial _Voyager_ newspaper, you see, and I wanted an exclusive interview with the Betazoid Who Saved Our Ship."

I must admit that I was taken aback and rather flattered. I am a reticent person, and I tend, therefore, to sink into the background. Most people don't notice me very much. The exception, of course, was Genevieve. "I'd be honored," I said, putting out my hand for her to shake, which she did.

"Great!" she said enthusiastically. She reached into her uniform and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook. "Okay, so--where were you born?"

"On Betazed, in a medium-sized town called Zenda."

"Uh-_huh_," she made a few marks in her notebook, and I suddenly wondered why she was using a paper notebook, rather than a PADD. It must have cost her some replicator rations. I suppose she read the question in my face, or perhaps I helped by projecting it slightly into her mind, but at any rate, she looked up and smiled. "I hate PADDs," she confessed. "I just prefer something without a screen."

"I see," I responded. She was beautiful, I thought, looking at her, and quite attractive, but that very beauty and attractiveness unnerved me. Genevieve had been beautiful and attractive, too. Of course I couldn't keep judging every woman I met by Genevieve, but still--I wasn't quite so sanguine as not to keep my distance from beautiful women for awhile.

Taki asked several more questions of me, and then told me she had enough "to be going on with."

"Watch for the first issue of _The Voyager Weekly_," she grinned at me. "I promise, you'll be in it."

"I'm definitely looking forward to it," I told her quietly.

"Hey, you know, you're a lot different from what I expected," she told me, putting a friendly hand on my shoulder. I don't believe she thought anything of it, but the touch reminded me forcibly of Genevieve and I flinched away without thinking. She looked hurt. "I apologize," I said stiffly, my eyes dropping to the floor. "I'm a Betazoid," I hastened to add. "Some of us are--rather like Vulcans. We don't--touch other people much." All true, as far as it went. Of course, it was not why I had flinched away, but under the circumstances, I felt a lie was the most appropriate response.

"Oh, yeah, of course, I'm sorry," she replied, quietly, sounding a little more cheerful.

"We're not as bad as the Vulcans," I continued, feeling a need to justify myself to her--a dangerous sign, a dispassionate portion of my mind warned me. "It's merely that someone else's emotions can be disturbing if we're unprepared." True, again. Just not--the whole truth.

"I guess I don't think too much about it when I touch people like that," Taki responded openly. "I don't work with a lot of telepathic species--I mean, it's not like we're all human down in the research labs, but it's a small crew, and I haven't worked with many telepaths since my Academy years."

"So you were originally a member of the _Voyager_ crew," I said meditatively. That was reassuring. As I remembered--or, no, that was a residual memory of Tuvok's I still carried from the time he attempted to kill me with a mind-meld--Chakotay had once commented that the Maquis didn't exactly, "Ask for resumes." Starfleet did. So Taki was highly unlikely to have any characteristics in common with Genevieve.

At that point, the Doctor stalked in again. "Miss Yokoshami," he said sternly, fixing her with a glare. She looked up, startled, and blushed. "Er, yes, Doc?" she mumbled in response.

"I thought I told you to leave Mr. Suder alone. Besides--" his eyes flicked from her to me and back. "He's really supposed to be within a safe forcefield."

I flushed at that, but of course the Doctor was correct. Just because I had saved the ship didn't mean I didn't still have certain, possibly uncontrollable violent tendencies, at least as far as the crew of _Voyager_ knew. I myself knew it wasn't necessary, but I couldn't tell the Doc that, not without giving away the whole story about Genevieve.

On the other hand, perhaps it was time for that story to be revealed. She'd caused enough grief and bloodshed, she and her good friend Seska, who had already deserted to the Kazon. "Doctor," I said quietly, as he shooed Ensign Yokoshami over to another bed and prepared to initiate a forcefield around mine.

"Yes?"

"Where is Ensign Genevieve Fuller?"

"Ensign Fuller? Oh." The Doctor turned to me. "Is she a good friend of yours?"

I nodded, cautiously. "A friend," I replied guardedly.

"Well, she is…missing. She seems to have disappeared at some time between the Kazon attack and the rescue of the crew from that godforsaken planet."

"Missing!" I ejaculated, unable to contain my shock and dismay.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, looking at me with a kind of compassion in his holographic eyes.

"No, Doctor, you don't understand--" I began, when a presence that had been lying dormant in my mind, waiting for my defenses to be down, seized that moment to strike. I was unconscious in under a second. Genevieve had learned her telepathic lessons well.


End file.
